Page 36 of Jasper

“You’re still making me pumpkin pies for Thanksgiving?”

“Yes, Jasper, I’m still making pumpkin pies for you.” She turned her face away so he wouldn’t see her smiling. She doubted he’d appreciate it in the mood he was in. Despite her comfort with him, old habits died hard. Brad taught her to never make light of him for any reason. While she doubted Jasper would berate her, part of her still shrank away from the possibility.

“How many pumpkins do you need?” He picked up two very large ones out of a bin.

“Not those. We need pie pumpkins. They’re the smaller ones.” She pointed to the bin beside of it. “We need six.”

“Sloane Collins?”

Both their heads snapped up and around. A woman stood a few feet away. She looked familiar, but Sloane couldn’t place her. Her very obviously dyed blonde hair was done up in a stylish bun, and light blue eyes smiled a welcome.

“Yes?”

“You probably don’t remember me, but I was friends with your aunt. I’m Dora Moore.”

She blanked on the name, and the woman laughed.

“Don’t worry about not remembering me. I only ever saw you when you came to visit. It’s good to see you back in Watford.” Her gaze swept to Jasper. “Some of the ladies in town said you were staying at your cousin’s with a guest.”

“I’m Robert.” He sidled up and slipped an arm around her shoulders, drawing Sloane into the curve of his body. “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am.”

The woman blushed, and Sloane barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had to be approaching fifty, and she was getting all hot and bothered over someone who could be her son. Gross.

The sound of his name seemed foreign, like it didn’t fit. She’d been calling him Jasper since she met him, but to hear him introduce himself as Robert felt wrong. He didn’t act like a Robert, if that made sense. Robert was such a staunch name. Jasper seemed to suit him more. The name sounded carefree and mischievous.

“Are you up for the holiday?” Ms. Nosy Pants questioned.

“Through Christmas, I think.” Jasper pulled Sloane closer. “Bit of a vacation for us, and we’re helping Jarrod save some money on hired hands.”

“Isn’t that nice of you.” She preened—yes, preened. Like a teenager.

“Well, it was good to see you, Mrs. Moore.” Sloane put heavy emphasis on the Mrs., as she could clearly see a wedding ring on her finger. “We need to finish shopping and head back before the storm sets in, though.”

“Oh, of course.”

Sloane didn’t wait for her to say anything else and turned, dragging Jasper and the cart with her.

“Slow down,” Jasper said. “Where’s the rush? We’ll make it back long before the snow gets bad.”

“That woman is married.”

“And?”

“And she was flirting with you.”

“And?”

Sloane slowed her steps and looked up at him. “And she’s married.”

“Did you see me flirting back?”

“Well, no…”

“So, what’s the hurry?” He leaned down, and his breath tickled her ear. “I think someone was beginning to get jealous.”

“She’s old enough to be your mother!”

“And?”

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